Notorious
by Twelve Winterflowers
Summary: [ON HOLD] Sakura and Syaoran are forced to hook up for a publicity stunt for the benefit of their families' companies. But when Sakura calls him an ass-kissing Chinese monkey and Syaoran labels her a brainless Japanese banshee, things get awfully out of hand...


**NaughtyAngel12: **Hey everyone! This is my first CCS fic. :D Oh, and in case you guys aren't sure about the meaning of 'Notorious', it describes someone who is famous in a bad way. And you'll find Sakura hating the Chinese here. Not that I have anything against the Japanese or Chinese—I'm a Chinese myself—but it's for the sake of the characters and story. Sakura's got a bit more attitude here. :| hehehe. I hope you'll like it though. xD

**Disclaimer: **I don't own CCS. :(

* * *

**Chapter 1****: Meet the Notorious**

Heads turned and whispers ensued as two slender, beautiful girls walked down the street of designer boutiques in Tokyo, their eyes disguised by expensive shades. The paler of the two with long, wavy midnight-blue hair dressed classily, characterized by her simple, off-the-shoulder floral print dress paired off with silver Louboutins and a white Prada bag. Her companion, though, was an auburn-haired girl whose style was loud and bright, judging from the hot pink biker jacket, graphic tee, and the black denim pants she wore. To top her outfit off were the blings that hung from her neck and the black peep-toe stiletto boots she had on her size-6 feet.

"I mean, that Yamazaki really pisses me off!" Sakura ranted, walking briskly down the street. "Pairing me with that goody-two-shoes Li Syaoran? What is he thinking?! I've told him so many times before that I don't _do _publicity stunts! And I most certainly won't do publicity stunts with the _Chinese_!"

"Calm down, Sakura dear," the talented fashion designer soothed, knowing that her grudge towards the Chinese flared to life when a Chinese model that Sakura trusted stole her favorite zebra-print trench coat. "Let's go shopping for shoes while you vent, hm? That'll make you feel better."

Sakura Kinomoto, one of the most successful fashion models in Tokyo at 23 and the one with the most advertisements, abruptly stopped and spun around, placing her hands on her best friend's shoulders. "That is brilliant, Tomoyo. You're brilliant, you know that?"

Tomoyo chuckled and linked her arm with Sakura's. "I know, darling. Now, tell me more about this publicity stunt, and then we can go over the pros and cons."

Sakura led Tomoyo into a Manolo Blahnik boutique, sighing histrionically. "Well, you see, my _amazing _manager Takashi and my _amazing _brother Touya had some sort of discussion. Touya, being the head of Father's company, asked my help to advertise some new joint project they're launching with the Li Corp., since you know, the Lis like, _own _practically all the malls in Japan, and our company's supplying all their malls with appliances like plasma TVs and all that—ooh! Do these look good on me, Tomo-chan?"

Sakura slipped on a pair of glittery salmon-colored wedges. Tomoyo glanced at them and smiled. "They're gorgeous, Sakura. Anyway, why do the Lis need to advertise with your company? Hasn't Touya sent out a lot of ads already?"

"Exactly my question to Takashi!" Sakura said, exasperated. She gestured to the saleslady to get her a smaller size. "It's because, you know, Dad's company only supplies exclusively to the Lis, besides our stores elsewhere. Some contract or something. So he has to advertise his products with the Li's supermall ads so people can go there and buy our appliances. And Takashi just had to suggest that I do it with Li Syaoran, since he was known for a time as Hong Kong's No.1 bachelor before he came over to Tokyo."

Tomoyo tried on a pair of gold, diamond-studded stilettos before answering her enraged best friend, choosing her words carefully. "Sakura, I actually think that this is a great opportunity. Ah—don't speak, hon. Let me finish." Tomoyo paused. "Think about it. If you two would advertise your appliances, then there'd be a good chance you two would have to go to the Li's malls for launching of new products. People will go to the malls, see you and Li Syaoran, think you look cute together, then buy the products. Besides, Hong Kong's No.1 bachelor and Tokyo's No.1 supermodel together would really generate a ruckus, and your reputations will both shoot up. You'd earn money for the publicity, interviews and all. When the contract between both of you is up—let's say in three months—nothing bad will happen, right?"

"But—"

"I'm not yet done," Tomoyo glared, shutting Sakura up effectively. "And, you and your family have some tension, am I correct?"

Sakura nodded. She could never forget the day that she told her father straight in the face that she never wanted anything to do with the company, since it wasn't her passion. From that day on, she rebelled against her father and brother's advice, taking up Medicine when they explicitly told her not to, but moving on to becoming a model, because at that time Fujitaka begged her, "Sakura, you can be an actress, a teacher, a model… But please not a doctor! Your mother died while treating someone with a contagious disease…"

The tension eased a bit when she gave them some financial assistance with her own money during the recession, but still it was there. "By complying with Touya's suggestions," Tomoyo continued, seeing the pensive look on Sakura's face, "you might just be able to lessen the conflict by putting your being a model to good use."

Sakura heaved a long sigh. "I guess you're right, Tomoyo. But it has to be Li Syaoran… I bet Touya chose him because he knows I hate Li's guts…"

"What's wrong with Li? Aside from his being Chinese, that is. He's pretty cute," Tomoyo teased.

"Well, you already gave my first reason for hating him," Sakura laughed. "But there was this time that I met him in a party and he was just flattering all the bigshots there. He even had a suspiciously friendly chat with that corrupt businessman Kouta! Disgusting."

Tomoyo sighed. "And, knowing you, you probably cursed him all night."

Sakura beamed. "Yep."

* * *

"MOTHER! WHAT IS THIS?!"

Syaoran barged into Yelan's penthouse room, waving a very much abused piece of paper in his hand. She sighed, bracing herself for the worst.

"I AGREED TO COME TO TOKYO TO TAKE OVER FATHER'S COMPANY, NOT TO MODEL WITH SOME ANOREXIC BIRDBRAIN!" he roared, slamming the paper on her desk. "I NEVER SIGNED UP FOR THIS SHIT! I WON'T—"

Yelan gave him a stern, motherly look. "Watch your mouth, Xiao Lang," she chastised. Immediately, Syaoran fell silent, meekly bowing his head, even if the anger and confusion still burned within him. He took a seat and drew a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry, mother," he apologized. "But I truly did not expect this."

"Let me explain," she said, smoothening out the crumpled edges of the paper. "We made this agreement for the benefit of our company. It will be good publicity for you, and it will help people come to know and respect you as the next head of our corporation—"

"They won't respect me when I'm with someone like _Kinomoto Sakura," _he spat, barely containing the disgust in his tone. "She is perhaps the most notorious model in Tokyo! I've met her once in a party and she was the most uncouth young woman there; she even stomped on Mr. Hiirigazawa's foot when he asked her for a dance! Mother—"

"Xiao Lang, let me finish," Yelan said firmly. Syaoran fell silent again. "You will find this deal useful in the future when both of you will attend Kinomoto's product launches together in our malls. People will flock to there. It's only for three months, anyway, son. I'm not asking you to marry her."

"Mother, please, I have a girlfriend—"

"It's alright for you and Miss Kinomoto to not take one another seriously. You can still go out with Hikari for the duration of the contract and after it. And you will meet her 12:00 noon on Tuesday, in Hinaiya for lunch. Understood?"

His mother looked at him with a certain gleam in her eye, the one that meant she won't change her mind no matter what he said. So he resigned to his fate and stood up slowly. "Yes, mother. Understood."

* * *

Takashi Yamazaki, Sakura's very unfortunate manager, tapped his foot on the wooden floor of the restaurant, feeling very, very nervous. He repeatedly checked his watch and wiped the sweat off his brow. _Where is she?! _he panicked. _She's an hour late!_

"Mr. Yamazaki," Syaoran said, trying to rein his temper in, "Is Ms. Kinomoto planning to come any time soon?"

"J-Just a minute, Mr. Li." Yamazaki flipped his phone open and rejoiced inwardly when he saw a text message from Sakura. _Takashi_, it read, _You won't believe this fantabulous MUST-HAVE dress I just found at J. Mendel! I'll just have it wrapped up and I'll be there in a jiffy. Ta-ta! Take care of poor cranky Li for me a little while more._

He twitched, once. Twice. _Damn you Sakura! _

"Well?" Syaoran was indeed getting crankier by the moment. He had arrived on the agreed restaurant at 12:00 sharp, even dressing his best despite the informal nature of the meeting because he wanted to make a good impression. Looks like it all went to waste, then.

"She'll be here in a few more minutes," Yamazaki stalled, gulping. Sakura's "jiffy" sometimes spanned to over thirty minutes.

"Yamazaki," Syaoran said in an eerily calm tone, "You've been telling me that for over fifty times in the past hour."

Takashi laughed nervously, fiddling with his necktie. "Well, there's been heavy traffic—"

"That was the tenth time you said that."

"Uh—er—ah—"

"Gentlemen!"

Takashi swiveled around in joy to see Sakura saunter in the restaurant, holding four shopping bags in each hand plus the bulky Chloé bag she had on her shoulder. He slapped his forehead. _Please, kami-sama, don't let Li be mad…_

Syaoran was fuming. This was insanity! He literally had piles of paperwork to finish in his office, and this bimbo had him put all that on hold for a whole _hour _because of her inability to control her shopping urges? What is wrong with women?! She didn't even dress up decently enough to meet him, what with her long, white sleeveless top that read in flashy silver letters, 'A moron is reading this!', her black tights and white strappy heels, and not to mention all those colorful bangles that jangled on her slender arms. Strands of her long, sandy-brown hair fell from her hastily-done ponytail, and her face was completely devoid of make-up. But Syaoran had to admit—albeit grudgingly—that she was probably one of the few women who was still beautiful without the aid of Photoshop technology, and one who was even more beautiful without that face paint most ugly women would die without.

Sakura flashed a dazzling smile at them, whipping her sunglasses off and dumping her shopping bags on the floor beside her before sidling in the seat in front of Syaoran. He deliberately avoided reading the print on her shirt. "Sorry I'm a little late—"

"Ms. Kinomoto, I believe you're an hour late. I don't think I'd consider that 'a _little _late', to quote what you've just said," Syaoran said through a false mask of civility.

"Oh, don't be like that," Sakura said sweetly. "It's only the second time we met."

Syaoran forced a smile. "Indeed. It's been awhile, Miss Kinomoto."

"That's Sakura now to you," she said lightly. "Sakura, honey, doll, babe, darling…"

Takashi backed off the two and bowed. "E-excuse me, but I believe that you both know the terms and conditions…Perhaps I'll leave you to catch up a little."

"Thanks Takashi," Sakura winked. Syaoran nodded his head in acknowledgement before Takashi turned around to leave.

"Okay, look, you ass-kissing Chinese monkey—"

"Ass-kissing Chinese monkey?" Syaoran nearly exploded. "You're the one at fault here, you brainless Japanese banshee—"

Sakura stared at him balefully with her sparkling emerald-green eyes. "Brainless _banshee? _Exc_uuu_se me—"

"Would you just shut up?!"

Sakura held her hands up in mock-surrender, regarding the amber-eyed boy critically. _Oops, I probably shouldn't have let him wait for too long._

"We're going to be stuck together for three damn months, woman," he hissed, lowering his voice when people started to stare. "We could either come at each other's throats, or we could play our parts well, deceive everyone, get famous, then break off quietly. I never wanted any of this, okay? I never wanted to do anything with the likes of you, so let's just get everything over with!"

Sakura examined her nails before looking up at him. "Your first proposition was quite interesting, though," she grinned. "And I don't like you too."

He smiled coldly. "I'm glad. The feeling's mutual, then."

A waitress came over and asked for their orders, but they both declined, asking only for refreshments. "Indeed. So, we have to act as much as a real couple would when we're in public. But nothing will change in our private lives."

Syaoran nodded, relieved that she was finally acting diplomatically. "Exactly."

"And even if we're acting as a couple, I won't allow you groping or touching me anywhere. Kisses only when necessary."

"I don't think anyone will want to touch or kiss some despicable bitch like you," he muttered.

Sakura glared at him. "No wonder you're still a bachelor. With an attitude like that, I bet no one could stand marrying you."

"Oh, so if my attitude's that bad, what do you call yours?" he sneered.

"Angelic," she sniffed.

"Ah, the witch demon lies," he smirked.

"And there he is in front of me," she chirped.

His expression darkened in exasperation. "You have some nerve, Kinomoto, prancing in here an hour late then insulting me like that, without offering a proper apology first—"

"Wait, wait. You want an apology?" Sakura looked mischievous. She called to the waitress hanging around them and whispered something into her ear, holding up her fingers as indications of sums of money. Syaoran looked on with confusion even after the waitress left.

"What did you say to her?"

An impish smile played on the supermodel's glossed lips. "Oh, just wait—here she comes again!" The waitress sped back to their table, and Sakura pressed a bill into the expecting woman's hand, thanking her. Syaoran stared at the apple cradled in her hands, then he stared at Sakura's deceivingly innocent face. His eyebrows shot up in suspicion. "What the—?"

She looked up at him with a practiced pout and puppy-dog eyes. "Will you accept my 'apple'-ogy?"

Syaoran slapped his head. Sakura burst into paroxysms of laughter, sputtering, "Get it? Get it??"

He gave her a dark glare and decisively brought his keys out.

"Aw, it didn't work on you!" Sakura sulked. "It always cheers me up when Yamazaki does it…"

"Miss Kinomoto," Syaoran exclaimed in clipped tones, "I have many things to do and you have already wasted enough of my time."

Sakura mimicked his formal, pissed-off façade. "Mr. Li, I have tons of fans, sponsors, famous fashion designers, prestigious magazines and huge organizations vying for a drop of my precious time. Every shot they take of me, every hour they spend with me, every _minute _they talk to me they have to _pay _for it. And here you are, with all of my _free _undivided attention, dissing me just like that." She snapped her fingers for effect.

"Well, Miss Kinomoto, I am not any of your sponsors, fashion designers, magazines, organizations, and definitely not any of your fans. I am Syaoran Li, and I do not care for the undivided attention of some foul-mouthed, spoiled cretin such as yourself. I focus more on the contracts and services that many investment banks, international companies and conglomerate corporations are placing at my feet."

Sakura was thoroughly offended at the arrogance of this cute Chinese bastard. She was only joking at first, but he had to take everything seriously and insult her like that! "Don't you _dare _talk to me like that—"

"Oops, sorry _hon, _I just did," Syaoran drawled. "Now, I have to leave. Please thank Yamazaki for me, and tell him that I pity him for having to put up with all your shit." He stood up.

Sakura stood up right after him, her eyes shining with anger. "And I offer all those companies of yours who offer their services to the devil!"

"That would be you, right?"

"No, you stupid ass-kissing Chinese monkey! It's you!"

By now people were starting to stare, and Syaoran could see the manager coming up to them. Out of an impulse to save his ass, he linked his arm through Sakura's and said loudly enough for those in proximity to hear, "Ah, darling, I'm so sorry. What have I done to offend you so much?"

Sakura saw through his act immediately, and she composed herself as well, saying in undertone, "You're a Chinese, and you're an ass-kissing monkey."

"That's very helpful, Miss Kinomoto," he said with a fake smile as the manager approached them, folding his hands nervously. "M-Mr. Li—"

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble my girlfriend here has caused," he interjected quickly, before taking a look at the manager's name tag. "Mr. Kawaguchi, thank you for your services. I commend your good work on the staff and ambiance. Good day."

"A-ah, but sir—"

"Here's a tip for all your hard work," Sakura beamed, handing him a thousand yen. "Goodbye!"

The manager was speechless at the tip. He hastily bowed, muttering "Arigatou gozaimasu…" at Syaoran and Sakura's retreating backs.

"See?"

Syaoran frowned at Sakura. "See what?"

"You're an ass-kissing monkey."

He smirked. "Speak for yourself. You gave him the generous tip."

Sakura rolled her eyes, actually feeling quite comfortable with their arms linked. She would rather jump off a cliff than admit that to him, though. "He wouldn't shut up."

They stepped out the doors of the restaurant, thinking they were both finally free to drop the act, when they were blinded by sudden bright, white flashes. The pair groaned at the same time, realizing that they now agreed on one thing to hate: The paparazzi.

* * *

**NaughtyAngel12: **Please leave a review so I know if I'll continue it. :D Criticisms and suggestions are welcome. :) The apple-ogy thing I got from a friend's friend. Hehe. And the thing about the deal, I made it up. I don't know if that's exactly how it works in the real world so... sorry if it's kind of confusing. :)) Again, please leave a review xD


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